


Impulse Buy

by BalefireFlatlands



Series: Modern Lights [2]
Category: Mad Max (Video Game 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2019-09-19 20:30:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17008692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalefireFlatlands/pseuds/BalefireFlatlands
Summary: The Outcrier is a big fish in a small pond and he wants to buy himself a good time.





	Impulse Buy

Late at night and the Outcrier was restless. He wanted to go back home to California instead of being in this shitty hellhole of a town on the opposite coast that was pretending to be tropical by planting thousands of palm trees everywhere. No one was fooled, this place was awful and the Outcrier wasn’t feeling up to pretending that the tiny club downtown was anything worth going to. Being a big celebrity in a small town was great for his ego, but honestly more trouble than it was worth.

Currently he was just driving, a few towns over from where he was staying was a much larger, albeit even crappier, town. He made several turns at random, getting hopelessly lost to see what would happen. With an ingrained sense of superiority he ignored the drug deals going on around him, there was the sound of gunshots followed by screaming people running into the street; he simply swerved around them. He didn’t care, it didn’t concern him. Somewhere inside him was the tingly thrill of danger; he could be shot for no reason, carjacked for the hundred thousand dollar sports car he was driving, anything could happen and that was exciting. Better than the monotony that was his normal life of getting everything he wanted.

Somehow he’d come across another downtown area, seedy and crime-ridden, just how he liked them. A girl on a corner waggled her fingers and blew a kiss towards the tinted windows of his car. Snickering at her face as he drove past he started paying more attention to the people on the street. He hadn’t really considered picking himself up a prostitute, but that wasn’t a bad idea. Problem was he didn’t have wads of cash on him and he doubted any of them were set up to take a credit card. Going to an ATM in this area seemed like a good way to get robbed.

Maybe he could find one willing to trust him long enough to go back to the hotel with him. He had cash there, and he did fully intend on paying them, though they’d be stupid to trust him like that. Not to mention the hotel was a half hour away and he wasn’t planning on driving them back. He stopped to chat with a few, scoffing at the price they quoted him, even padding on extra for the car he was in they were giving him ludicrously low rates. Small town perks he supposed.

So far there’d been mostly women, and he wasn’t interested in that. It’d been years since he’d fucked a woman, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to break that dry spell. It might make a decent scandal in the news though: notoriously gay Outcrier caught with female prostitute. Hmm, not bad. Notoriously gay sounded good, he hoped they went with that one. There were a few men here and there, big and beefy and definitely not his type, or tiny and flamboyant which was closer, but not quite.

He glanced over as a pimp backhand someone scrawny and frail looking, raising a hand to do worse before spotting the Outcrier’s car that had slowed down to watch and quite literally kicking the guy into the side of the car before turning to yell at someone else. Pulling himself off the car the man backed up a few feet, trying to see into the dark tinted window.

Now that was more like it. Slender, but with a rugged edge. He rolled down the window, “And what are you charging, pretty thing?”

“Two hundred.” Reaching up to the scarf covering the lower half of his face, he tugged it down as he cocked his head to the side, eyeing the Outcrier with a hint of recognition. “And that gets you the full package.”

The Outcrier figured he probably recognized him, hell he was famous wasn’t he? But he paused, there was definitely something weirdly familiar about this lanky prostitute. Shaking his head he motioned to the passenger seat, two hundred dollars was incredibly low, “My hotel is a few towns over, but I’ll pay you for your time. Get you away from that for a while.” He nodded at the guy’s pimp who was now absolutely beating the shit out of someone else.

Turning to look, the man grimaced, and then quickly moved around to get into the car. He had a small satchel bag over his shoulder that he dropped to the floor beneath his feet, wriggling into the seat and somehow managing to look alluring while putting on a seat belt.

It was a good thing he did because the Outcrier took off at triple digit speeds, running signal lights and weaving through traffic. “Got a name?”

Plastered into the seat and trying to not look frightened, it took him a while to reply, “Lectricy.”

Chuckling the Outcrier looked over at him again, there was something so, so familiar about him. He’d never been to this town before, and hopefully wouldn’t ever return, but damn there was something about this guy. Ignoring the weird sense of déjà vu, he turned his eyes back to the road, getting on the freeway and really ramping up the speed. The speedometer went to 220, and he wasn’t getting his moneys worth if he didn’t use all that horsepower under him. “What’s in the bag?”

“Do you really want to know? Or do you want me to lie to you?”

“Considering I’m probably going to get pulled over at some point, yeah, I really want to know if you have a kilo of crack in there.”

The high speeds were nauseating, especially when Lectricy leaned forward to grab the bag, flipping it open. He wasn’t gonna get paid shit if he puked all over this incredibly expensive car, “Condoms. Lube. And I don’t do crack, it’s heroin.” He rifled through it, showing a few capped needles, some highly tarnished spoons and two small baggies.

Raising an eyebrow the Outcrier peered into the bag long enough to have to swerve to keep on the road. “You expecting a gang bang? You have enough condoms in there to fuck an entire army battalion.”

Finally cracking a small smile Lectricy bundled everything back up and returned the bag to the floor, “I have to keep them on me or the people I live with steal them.”

“Safety first, huh?”

“Its double the price if you want bareback.”

“Spring that on me when you’re already in the car? Clever thing.” Outcrier smirked, spinning the wheel to take an offramp he’d already passed. He didn’t have any intention of fucking this guy without protection, who knew where he’d been, but he appreciated the business strategy of upping the price after the fact.

Lectricy cringed into the seat, legs braced under the dash as if expecting to be driven straight into a wall. Fortunately for his stomach the Outcrier slowed down once he got closer to the hotel, a huge multi story thing that looked out of place amid the smaller buildings surrounding it. Wobbling as he got out of the car, he nearly fell over as the Outcrier lobbed his keys at a valet and came up to his side to snake a possessive arm around Lectricy’s shoulder.

“Come on you.” He led Lectricy into the hotel and towards the elevator, staring down the hotel staff at the desk as if daring them to say anything. None of them made eye contact.

The elevator was mirrored, repeating their reflections infinitely in every direction, and Lectricy craned around to see himself. In this lighting he looked much older, his scarf and sweater both slightly threadbare and ratty, and he scowled as he rubbed at the spreading bruise across his cheek from where he’d been smacked. He wasn’t high enough class for this incredibly nice hotel, and he audibly gasped when they got off the elevator directly into the Outcrier’s room.

“Gaudy as fuck isn’t it? I think it’s supposed to be opulent, but it looks like some costume jewelry exploded.” He tossed his jacket over the canopy of the four poster bed as he stood in front of a wall safe behind a landscape painting of the ocean.

“Looks fine to me.” Lectricy dug into his bag pulling out a handful of condoms and spreading them out for the Outcrier to choose from. He kicked back onto the bed, just waiting before he did anything. He couldn’t get a read on the Outcrier, didn’t know if this was going to be a quick, rough, painful fuck and then done, or if he was going to start asking for really kinky shit.

The Outcrier turned around and closed the safe, holding some folded bills between his fingers. “This is a thousand dollars. What all do I get for that?”

Lectricy perked up immediately, eyes widening despite himself. “Anything you want that isn’t tying me up.”

“That’s the limit is it?” The Outcrier took off his watch and let it drop onto the dresser, pulling his shirt off over his head. “Get all those clothes off. I want you naked and exposed.”

Well that was different. He usually didn’t have to strip down completely, but Lectricy complied, obediently pulling his shoes off and bundling all of his clothes onto his bag. Rolling back onto the bed he lounged against the mound of pillows on top, waiting as the Outcrier picked out a condom and swept the rest onto the ground. Lectricy bit his lip as he watched, squirming into a more sultry position, “What do you want me to call you?”

“Outcrier.” He didn’t really want to know, but he couldn’t resist asking, “Do most people want you to call them Master?”

“I get ‘Daddy’ more often honestly.” He huffed out a breath as the Outcrier dropped his pants. Lectricy had fucked hundreds of people, but the Outcrier was definitely on the more impressive side of the spectrum.

The Outcrier crunched up his face, deciding to not ask any more questions about that. Standing next to the bed he rolled the condom onto himself; time to establish some ground rules, “Yeah, I’m not into that. None of that fake porn star moaning either. You don’t even have to pretend to like this. And if you want me to stop you can just shut up, because I’m not stopping.”

“Got it.”

Crawling over him the Outcrier took a minute to appreciate the lithe form beneath him. Sure Lectricy was covered in bruises and his arms were loaded with scars, but he hit absolutely every single one of the Outcrier’s turn ons. He sat back on his heels, reaching in the drawer of the nightstand for the lube he’d thrown in there after his last one night stand, the good stuff, far better than what Lectricy had in his bag. He could fit a waterbottle through a keyhole with this shit.

Lectricy wrapped his legs around the older man’s waist as he waited for him to finish slicking himself up. He was a little surprised when those fingers were turned to him, stretching and stroking him, but he eagerly rocked into it. He’d take any preparation he could get.

It wasn’t nearly enough, and he winced, tensing up as the Outcrier forced his way into him. He stayed quiet though, digging his heels into the small of the Outcrier’s back to keep him close, his fingers pressing into those broad shoulders. The roughness of the Outcrier’s thrusts were jostling him around on the bed and he struggled to keep his grip on him and not be pounded into the headboard. 

Without warning, the Outcrier sat up, dragging Lectricy with him and holding onto his hips with an iron grip. This wasn’t new for Lectricy, he was used to being roughly handled. What was new was the gasp that escaped Lectricy as the Outcrier leaned forward again, folding him in half like a lawnchair and driving into him so deeply he reflexively twitched and saw stars.

The Outcrier was impressed, he was staying nice and quiet and hadn’t tried to shove him off yet. He was earning that pay one thrust at a time, and the Outcrier had an unprecedented amount of stamina. Lectricy stifled down what would have been a pained whine, digging his fingers into the Outcrier’s back and clenching his teeth.

Unrelenting, the Outcrier shifted so that Lectricy’s knees were over his shoulder, finally starting to pant. After a while he realized that his fingernails were cutting into Lectricy’s hips, tiny droplets of blood appearing next to what were bound to be deep bruises the next day. Grunting he backed off a little, uncrumpling the man beneath him who had started trembling in a way that was not in pleasure. It wasn’t the Outcrier’s intention to hurt him, he didn’t care if he did, but he certainly wasn’t doing it on purpose.

Lectricy drew in a shuddery breath as his cramped muscles got some relief, making sure that he kept his arms around the Outcrier, never doing anything to push him away. A few squirmy stretches and Lectricy was ready again, arching up against the Outcrier’s stomach and encouraging him to finish.

Well that was nice. “Good boy.” He reached down to stroke Lectricy to life, he hadn’t been aroused this entire time; hard to be when he was in pain, but he responded to the Outcrier’s attention immediately. Briefly the Outcrier wondered if anyone ever touched him, he doubted many people got a prostitute in order to get pounded themselves. He slid back into him, a bit gentler this time, one hand by Lectricy’s head propping himself up, the other holding onto his hip to keep him in place.

He finished with a growl, leaning his forehead into Lectricy’s shoulder and staying buried inside him until he’d fully softened. Lectricy lay there with his hands idly stroking the Outcrier’s skin, a little unsure what to do if he wasn’t supposed to be faking an orgasm and telling the man he was the best fuck of his life.

That had been exactly what the Outcrier needed, and he rolled to the side, hand on Lectricy’s stomach to keep him in place. He wasn’t done with him yet. “Want me to get you off?”

Surprised, Lectricy stared at him, “What?”

“I want you again later, so you can either lay here and pretend to not exist for a while, or I can finger fuck you into the mattress. Your choice.”

Lectricy was a junkie, he was high all the time, but he’d never been as confused and unsure as he was right now. In fact he was pretty sure he might be so high he was mishearing him, “Why would you do that?”

“Because it guarantees that you don’t talk to me for the next half hour or so.”

“I … okay?” Tentatively he reached out towards the Outcrier. “Can I touch you?”

“Sure.” Nothing about the Outcrier was romantic, and he was treating this as a normal transaction, like picking out a couch. He wanted what he wanted; which if he really thought about it was a fucktoy that silently waited around for him to have sex with. Unobtrusive. Submissive. And since that wasn’t a real thing that existed he was making due with what he had, and methods that had worked for him in the past.

He rolled Lectricy against him, laying on his side and draping one of those lanky legs over his hip to give him good access to his ass. Slicking up his fingers again he slid one into Lectricy and curled it forward, rewarded with a soft gasp and a shudder. A better first start than he’d expected, the poor guy must be really neglected.

Last time he’d done this he’d spent most of the time playing on his phone with one hand and turning the guy into mush with the other. But Lectricy was making soft panting noises, fingers digging into the Outcrier’s shoulders with his face buried into his neck, and he found himself wanting to watch how this progressed. The Outcrier twisted his fingers and gauged the man’s response, figuring out what would work through trial and error. But once he found it, oh Lectricy’s response was worth double what the Outcrier was paying him.

Shaking, Lectricy clawed at the Outcrier’s back, making delicious whining noises that he tried to muffle against the other’s skin. Sure he might be acting, that was his job after all, but if so he was doing an impressive job of it. The Outcrier kept at it, stroking him into a writhing mess before giving him release. That was easier than he’d thought.

Lectricy went limp and collapsed, panting hard with his eyes closed. It had been a long, long time since he’d had a real actual not-faked orgasm. He’d nearly forgotten what that was like. The Outcrier got up and went to clean himself off, switching on the tv and grabbing his phone. Lectricy hadn’t moved by the time he returned and he tossed a washcloth onto him as he settled down to idly flip through channels while answering emails.

Opening his eyes, Lectricy wiped himself off with the washcloth and then stretched out on his stomach with a pillow under his head. He’d never had someone want to wait between rounds, but for a thousand dollars the Outcrier had essentially bought him for the entire night.

The Outcrier glanced over at him as he quietly lay there; impressed by how obedient he was. Granted that was probably because he was an addict and a prostitute, but even so, it was a nice change from the people he normally fucked. He stroked down Lectricy’s spine occasionally, enjoying the little wriggles he gave as he dozed.

He took about an hour of downtime, relaxing and sending annoying texts to his publicist, before he rolled over towards Lectricy and patted his side. Shaking himself awake Lectricy got up on his hands and knees, looking over at Outcrier for confirmation that that’s what he wanted.

Someone had trained this kid real good and the Outcrier easily knelt behind him already spread open and ready. He almost started fucking him without re-lubing himself up; but he’d been so good, he deserved a little more care and attention than that. Lectricy gave him a small smile when he saw him go for the bottle again and the Outcrier pointedly looked away as he opened another condom with his teeth, he didn’t want to see him looking human. This was a toy he’d bought for a few hours. Not a person.

This round was far more gentle than the last, not intentionally pleasurable for Lectricy, but not painful either. The poor guy’s waist was gonna be all bruised up in the morning, but from this angle the Outcrier could tell that wouldn’t be even in the top ten of bad nights for Lectricy. He had some strange scars on his back like maybe he’d been whipped, though they seemed too evenly spaced for that, and there were all kinds of tears and stretch marks radiating from his ass.

Satiated the Outcrier let Lectricy go, flopping over and catching his breath. Best thousand dollars he’d spent in a while.

Lectricy stretched luxuriously before getting to his feet and gathering up his bag and his clothes. “Mind if I use your bathroom before I go?”

“Just don’t overdose in there.”

“I’m not gonna OD.”

The Outcrier shook his head, hoping that the scandal he was involved in didn’t start with the headline 'dead prostitute found in the Outcrier’s hotel bathroom.’ It was a while later when Lectricy emerged, fully clothed and acting more lethargic than he had been. He was still coherent though and he grabbed the money off the dresser, counting it out and dividing it between several pockets and one of his shoes.

“How much of that do you get to keep?”

Gathering up the unused condoms and stuffing them back in his bag he eyed the Outcrier, wondering why he was so curious, “Half.”

“And what are you going to say you charged me?”

Lectricy actually grinned, “We fucked twice. Four hundred.”

“Clever indeed.”

—

A few days later and the Outcrier was feeling frisky again. He should have pulled some Pretty Woman bullshit and bought that prostitute for the whole week. Not that he could tolerate someone’s presence for that long, but at least he was buying silence and obedience.

He’d be leaving town in a few days, might as well see if he was around for another night of fucking. At least he knew where he was, he’d let Lectricy start to leave before finally offering to drive him back. He wasn’t completely heartless, and he knew that if left to his own devices Lectricy would probably get robbed on the way to wherever he lived and lose all his hard earned money. It was just wasteful.

Now cruising around the same area of town where he’d found him the first time he was starting to think that maybe he was working a different area or already found a job for the evening. He spotted the bag before he realized it was Lectricy, half his face covered with a thick grey scarf, different than he’d had before. Pulling up to the curb next to the stoop he was sitting on he rolled down the window and motioned him into the car.

There was a moment where Lectricy didn’t react, staring off into space, then he seemed to come back to himself, recognizing the Outcrier and climbing to his feet. He was limping a little, and when he got into the car he grunted and adjusted himself so he was sitting more on his side. Reaching over the Outcrier tugged the scarf down, grabbing his chin and looking him over.

Lectricy’s eyes were downcast, his voice subdued, “Want me to go?”

There was a long pause as the Outcrier studied Lectricy; a nasty looking black eye taking up half his face, a long scrape across the side of his shorn scalp, and a cut lip. “No. You’re still good.”

Lectricy didn’t respond, looking down at the ground and staying quiet for the entire ride to the hotel, barely reacting to the Outcrier’s crazed driving. In the better lighting of the hotel he could really see Lectricy’s injuries and he’d obviously taken quite the beating. He was wearing a new scarf and a new soft sweater though, long and slim fitting to show of his slender form.

“This what you spent my money on?”

Lectricy nodded, looking down at himself. “And breakfast. I bought breakfast too.”

Approaching the bed Lectricy set his bag down, reaching up to pull off his shirt and drop it to the side.

Whistling low the Outcrier came up behind him, tracing the scrapes and bruises all over his back, “What’d you do to deserve this?”

With a wince, Lectricy turned around to face him, taller than the Outcrier but looking even smaller and more pathetic when next to the Outcrier’s bulky frame. “I took a night off to sleep.”

He was kinda wobbly, and every so often his head would snap upwards, like he was falling asleep on his feet and suddenly waking up. The Outcrier narrowed his eyes, "How high are you right now?“

Lectricy dropped his head to look at the ground, "I don’t remember. I think I doubled up.” Shaking himself into something resembling coherency he spoke again, “I have to make two grand tonight to make up for taking the day off. I can’t stay long. I’ve only made eight-hundred.”

“It’s six o'clock. You’ve already fucked four people today?”

Nodding miserably, Lectricy went for the Outcrier’s belt, thin fingers working it off and stripping him down with a weird sort of desperation. Before he nearly collapsed against the Outcrier, uncoordinated and drowsy.

“Okay. C'mere.” Leading him to the bed he shoved Lectricy into a sitting position. Going to a tray of half eaten food on the table he scooped some scraps onto a plate and pushed it into Lectricy’s hands. “Sit there and eat something before you pass out. Don’t want you dying on my floor.”

Lectricy stared at the food stupidly for a few moments before he started to eat ravenously. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, probably breakfast a few days ago. Immediately after finishing he stood back up, stripping himself down and approaching the Outcrier again.

“I’ll make up the twelve hundred you need for the night, go lay down. I don’t want to have to call 911 for a junkie prostitute when you pass out.” He led Lectricy towards the bed, sitting next to him and turning on the TV. “Sleep it off and then we can see about you being my personal dick cozy.”

“Okay.” He was fuzzy, not understanding what was happening, but also not aware enough to react to anything. Still fully naked he slid under the blankets, curling up and falling asleep within minutes.

Trying to ignore the sleeping junkie, the Outcrier flipped through channels, feeling restless and unfulfilled. He wasn’t even in the mood to fuck anymore, conflicted and uncomfortable with what had happened. Lectricy’s breathing was slow enough that the Outcrier kept thinking he had died. Maybe he should have called an ambulance and made it not his problem anymore, but every time he reached for his phone he’d have second thoughts. It wouldn’t look great for him to be caught with a drug addict prostitute, but he also wasn’t sure if prostitution was legal here or if they’d arrest Lectricy. He could only imagine prison would be a hundred times worse than his daily life and that was saying something.

He’d managed to miss every show he’d started to watch, concerned that the sleeping bundle next to him wasn’t going to wake up. Eventually Lectricy started looking less like he’d passed out and more like he was asleep, wriggling around every now and then to get comfortable.

And then he shifted closer to the Outcrier, murmuring something and wrapping an arm around the man’s waist. The Outcrier froze, staring down at that scrawny appendage wrapped around him in surprise; Lectricy’s elbow was a horrible mess of scars and spidery veins and bruises and he was deathly pale. No one ever cuddled the Outcrier, no one had even attempted it. The other hookers he’d hired had been more than happy to do what they were paid to and leave. And his 'boyfriends’ were only arm candy to fuck and abandon.

Extracting himself from Lectricy’s grip he kicked off his socks and underwear and turned the light off before sliding back into bed. Underneath the covers Lectricy reattached himself to the Outcrier, pressing against his side. This was not what he was paying twelve-hundred dollars for. But it was nice and warm and pretty relaxing. No one had to ever know about this and Lectricy didn’t seem to be awake enough to remember anyway.

He better not wake up covered in vomit with a dead hooker in his bed.

—

“Hey Lec, wake up.” The Outcrier was rewarded with a groan as he opened the curtains and let bright light cascade into the room. “You still alive in there?”

“m'live,” Mumbled into the mattress as he pulled the blanket over his head. There were a few seconds of silence before he erupted into a flurry of activity; tossing the blanket to the side to get up. “What time is it? Fuck, I needed to be back last night. Shit shit shit.”

The Outcrier snickered as Lectricy got tangled in the sheets and faceplanted into the floor. “It’s nine in the morning. You got a curfew?”

“No. Yes. I gotta go. Did we fuck already? I’m gonna be in so much trouble.”

Calmly sitting at the table the Outcrier bit into a piece of toast, “You could just not go back.”

Managing to pull himself free of the blankets and crawl over to his bag he glared at the Outcrier, “I can’t just not go back. I live there.”

“So live somewhere else.”

“Like where?” Everything hurt right now and Lectricy dug through his bag for a fresh needle and his tourniquet.

Shrugging the Outcrier watched him curiously, he’d never actually seen someone shoot up before. “Take your money and go to a different town.”

Lectricy balanced a spoon on his knees flicking a lighter and opening a small baggie one handed. “End up in the same place, different town.”

“How often do you do that? I thought you said you doubled up yesterday?”

“I probably did.” He had no idea, he barely remembered anything other than being in the hotel and the Outcrier feeding him the remains of a baked potato. Pulling the tourniquet tight he held the rubber end clenched in his teeth, carefully filling the needle and flicking it a few times before plunging it into his arm. He relaxed almost immediately, capping the needle and leaning his head back against the wall. “As often as I need to not feel anything.”

“Well that sounds fun.” He eyed Lectricy as the man gathered up all his stuff and stood unsteadily. That had been a far more disturbing answer than he’d expected.

“Did we have sex already? I gotta go, we should do that now if we haven’t.”

“No, you laid in bed and passed out.” Sure the Outcrier had told him to do that, but if he didn’t remember there was no point in reminding him. “So you owe me a fuck, a good one too since you’ve been here for fifteen hours. But I have to go to work, and you have to go get smacked around. Seems we’re at an impasse.”

“What do you want from me?”

What did he want? Well aside from the obvious of fucking him till neither of them could walk, the Outcrier wasn’t sure what he wanted. “I want what I paid for. You can stay here till tonight. Say I kidnapped you and wouldn’t let you go. Here. Look.”

Going to the safe in the wall he twisted it open, showing a few stacks of cash and some watches worth more than what Lectricy made in a year. Lectricy’s simply stared in disbelief as he stood next to the bed.

“You want a piece of that? Stay and have it later.”

“Just… stay in the hotel room?”

“That’s it. Order some room service. Rent some movies. Take a nap. Do whatever it is you do when you’re not working.”

Audibly gulping he looked between the safe and Outcrier, feeling like he wasn’t understanding. Maybe he should have held off on shooting up until after conversations like this. Though his face and his ass had been killing him, and right now he couldn’t feel either which was a welcome relief.

“Why would you let me do that?”

“Because I’m lazy and don’t want to have to drive out to pick you up again. I’m out of this shit-hole of a town in two days and then you’ll be rid of me forever.” He casually shut the safe and spun the dial, locking up Lectricy’s treasure. “And you still owe me from last night so I get a freebie later.”

“I guess.” He went and sat on the bed, pulling on his sweater again. “You really want me to stay here and spend your money?”

“See if you can get my bill over a thousand, I’ve been slacking.” The Outcrier went to the closet and pulled out a leather jacket, slipping into it and turning back to Lectricy on the bed. “You took a night off and got beat up. I’m paying you to take a day off, I don’t see the problem here.”

Lectricy could see quite a few problems; namely that he was gonna get beat up even more when he finally returned. But then there was the allure of free food and a day of sleeping on the nice puffy hotel bed instead of his dingy cot in a drug house. Not to mention the promise of a whole lot of money. “Alright.”

“Atta boy.” The Outcrier grinned, used to getting his way but pleased nonetheless. “I’ll be back around four. Entertain yourself until then.”

“Uh… Have a good day at work?”

The Outcrier paused as he was leaving, something about that simple sentence unsettling him. He grunted in response, getting into the elevator and trying to not think about Lectricy for the rest of the day.

“Entertain myself.” Lectricy wandered around the hotel room, picking up the room service menu and plopping down onto the bed half dressed. He had no idea what an artichoke was, better try one while he could. He flipped a page, not knowing how to pronounce half the desserts he could order.

This was going to be fun.

—

The Outcrier had been distracted at work, annoyed at himself for the situation he was in. Lectricy had probably ordered a slew of food and then took off with what he’d already been paid. Or if he was smart that’s what he would do anyway. But the Outcrier had a suspicion that he wasn’t that smart; afterall he’d agreed to be driven miles away from where he lived without any way to get home. He’d most likely still be there when the Outcrier got back.

What was he going to do then? Fuck him and drop him back off to get the crap kicked out of him? He’d be leaving town the next day anyway so the Outcrier really shouldn’t have cared. He never had before and he’d left previous one night stands in terrible situations without ever a second thought.

Why was this different?

Okay he’d never left someone in a place where they could potentially die. He was a selfish narcissist not a complete monster. Should he take him to some sort of shelter? Drop him off at a rehab facility? Also he’d paid for about eight more romps in the sheets than he’d gotten and he was only in town for another day. Even his stamina had limits and he couldn’t simply take Lectricy home with him to San Francisco and get his money’s worth.

Wait what? He did not just think that, and he scowled at himself as he drove around aimlessly before heading back to the hotel. Maybe Lectricy would be gone and then Outcrier wouldn’t have to deal with anything. Hopefully not overdosed on his floor dead, but that would also get him out of this. He didn’t usually have to handle things he didn’t want to, he had staff for that. And this was one of those rare situations where he couldn’t call someone to take care of it for him.

It was as he feared when he got back to the room: Lectricy was laying on his stomach wearing a terrycloth bathrobe with his feet kicked up, several carts of food around the room. He was watching a movie while poking at a tablet on the bed in front of him. Having taken a shower at some point the room smelled strongly of soap.

“Have a good time?”

Lectricy nodded and smiled sweetly before waving at the plate next to him, “Want some cheesecake?”

“Maybe later.” The Outcrier busied himself taking off his jacket and watch and surveying the remains of what had been ordered in his name. Now he was really uncomfortable, confronted with the fact he had no idea what to do with the prostitute in his bed. Besides the obvious anyway. “Where’d you get that?”

Lectricy didn’t look up, continuing to swipe tiles left and right on the screen. “It was in the magazine holder in the bathroom.”

The Outcrier was stalling and he knew it; he had better options for putting off unpleasant conversations than just walking around the room. Sitting down next to Lectricy he ran a hand up one of his legs, “You smell really good.”

Putting the half eaten plates of food and tablet on the trolley next to him, Lectricy rolled onto his back, letting the bathrobe fall open.

The Outcrier smiled smugly, crawling over him. Very shortly he was only going to owe him seven rounds instead of eight.

—

It was the middle of the night and the Outcrier was no closer to a solution. Lectricy was next to him, sleeping with his head on the Outcrier’s stomach wearing one of the man’s shirts that was about three sizes too big for him. There were exactly eighteen hours before he flew back home, so he needed to think of something fast.

Even as rich as he was he didn’t want to waste money and he’d paid Lectricy for a lot more than what he’d received. Could he potentially take him home and get what he wanted and then ship him back? He could only imagine that the guy would be messily murdered if he did that, and even though he’d be out of sight and out of mind that still bothered the Outcrier. Just a little bit.

Lectricy rolled away, stretching to take up the whole other half of the bed and snuggling around a pillow. He seemed to be perfectly comfortable with everything that was happening. He hadn’t even pressed the Outcrier for a reason why he was willing to keep him around after pleasuring himself. Which was good because the man didn’t have one. 

He was a submissive little thing, easily manipulated and would probably agree to anything the Outcrier proposed if he was going to get fed and be able to sleep worry free. There was something exceptionally pathetic about having a nice payday and spending some of it on breakfast and a new shirt. The Outcrier could only imagine the rest of it went to drugs, Lectricy was an addict unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

A few hours of being asleep and Lectricy was awake again, letting out a pained noise that made the Outcrier sit up in alarm. Lectricy didn’t notice him though, struggling out from the blankets and drawing in sharp breaths through his teeth. He hurt so bad and he nearly fell as he stood up to go grab his bag. Digging around in it he dislodged several condoms and a spoon as he staggered into the bathroom looking for a needle.

The Outcrier stayed where he was, listening to Lectricy’s anguished breathing until it calmed. The Outcrier never felt guilty, he was incapable of doing anything wrong, but he did feel something that might have been a twinge of discomfort at the knowledge that he contributed to this. He definitely hadn’t been gentle with Lectricy when he got home, even though he knew he’d been beat to hell and selling himself all day and night previously.

Lectricy was sure taking a long time in there, the fuck was he doing? Curiosity getting the best of him the Outcrier got up to investigate, finding Lectricy collapsed onto the floor by the tub, needle still in his arm. Okay, this was getting out of hand and definitely not what the Outcrier had paid for. He angrily flicked off the light and stomped back to bed, grumpy that his already restless sleep had been interrupted. However it was even worse now, the image of Lectricy crumpled on the floor invading his thoughts.

With a disgruntled snort he got back up, standing over Lectricy for a long time as he debated with himself. He yanked the needle out and untied the tourniquet, pressing a towel to his elbow as he started to bleed. Lectricy seemed to be unconscious, not responding to being shouted at or jostled. That was mildly concerning and the Outcrier had no idea if he was laying there dying.

Maybe he should have just kicked him out after he was done with him. But it was too late for that now. Very awkwardly the Outcrier got his arms under Lectricy and picked him up, trying to not smack his legs into the doorframe as he carried him back to the bed. What was his life where this was even a thing that happened to him?

—

A long night of searching the internet for “how to deal with someone passed out on heroin” and the Outcrier could now use an entire bottle of scotch and maybe a ten hour nap. Lectricy seemed none the worse for wear, wriggling against the older man and attempting to steal his body heat. Blearily staring at the alarm clock on the nightstand, the Outcrier tried to make his exhausted brain register what time his flight was tonight.

“Alright, wake up.” He shoved Lectricy over onto his stomach as he got up, ignoring his groans of protest and weak struggles that only served to tangle himself up in the sheets. “Up up. My flight is in eight hours, get all your stuff, you’re coming with me.”

“I’m what?”

The Outcrier didn’t respond, closing the bathroom door behind himself and turning on the shower; leaving a bewildered Lectricy sitting on the bed. Unsure what to do he pulled his pants on, folding his scarf into his bag and wondering if he was supposed to be leaving right now. He was sleepy and fuzzy from shooting up and everything the Outcrier said wasn’t registering properly in his mind.

Wait, he couldn’t leave, he hadn’t been paid yet; the money was still in the safe in the wall. All he had was the Outcrier’s shirt that he was wearing, trying to remember why he’d put that on in the first place. He started to take it off, only to hesitate, the smell of it strangely comforting. Instead he put his sweater on over it, bunching up the extra fabric so it didn’t stick out the bottom. He felt gross, needed a shower, and as he inspected himself in the mirror by the bathroom he frowned, his black eye having turned purple and yellow and splotchy.

He looked like all hell.

Running his hand over his scalp he scrubbed at the blondish stubble there, having not shaved in a while. All his hair was growing back, everywhere, and he scratched at his chest, wondering if he felt all prickly along with how itchy he was. He startled as Outcrier opened the door, striding into the room naked with a towel around his neck.

“Stealing my shirt?” The Outcrier’s voice was playful as he tugged on a bit of it that was sticking out from beneath Lectricy’s sweater.

“N-no. I .. uh.”

“Keep it. You look good in it. Well, when you’re wearing only the shirt.” He pulled on some underwear, starting to toss things from the drawers onto the bed. “What do you want before we leave, have anything back home you want to bring?”

“What? Bring where?”

“San Francisco.”

Lectricy just stared, dumbfounded.

Rounding on him, the Outcrier crowded into his personal space, backing him up against the wall. He reached up, putting his hand against Lectricy’s face, thumb rubbing the bruised skin around his eye. “I’ve paid you for a lot more than I’ve gotten, and I’m gonna get my money’s worth.”

“You didn’t pay me for last night.” said before Lectricy could stop himself and he immediately regretted it, wondering if he was gonna get hit and not paid at all.

“That’s right.” He didn’t back up, nor make any move to go for the safe, wondering if he had time for a quickie right now before he left. But no, that wasn’t a good idea. Both because he had to pack and leave, but also he had to remind himself that Lectricy was injured, had nearly overdosed due to pain already. He wasn’t going to be the reason for even more anguish on Lectricy’s already abused body. Instead he simply repeated his question, “Anything you want to bring?”

“You really want to fly me to San Francisco?” Lectricy was confused, and slightly intimidated by the larger man leaning against him. “What am I supposed to do after you get what you paid for?”

“I dunno. That’s up to you. It’s your life.”

Lectricy’s brain wasn’t wired to properly process confusing issues like this. In fact he wasn’t very good at making decisions about much of anything, so he looked like a deer in headlights for a few minutes while he tried to figure out how to respond. He flinched as the Outcrier went to drag his fingers down the side of his neck, confused and scared.

That wasn’t the response the Outcrier was expecting and he dropped his hand, scowling and taking a step back, causing Lectricy to try and recoil further from the expression on the man’s face. The Outcrier huffed out a breath, going to get dressed and giving Lectricy some space. He’d been trying to be gentle, thinking maybe he’d come off as .. what was the word? Caring? Yeah. Caring and less intimidating. It obviously wasn’t working as the prostitute was nearly trembling, pressed against the wall and looking terrified.

Understanding dawned on him when Lectricy darted away to grab his bag and clutch it to his chest, edging back towards the door. He probably thought the Outcrier was going to kill him, lure him out to the middle of nowhere with some bullshit story about flying away and then murder him. Couldn’t blame him, it didn’t make sense even to him and he was the one suggesting it.

“You don’t have to. I can drive you back, you can get a matching black eye on the other side.” He mentally kicked himself after he said it, watching Lectricy cringe and curl up around his bag. He really didn’t have much of a choice, even if the Outcrier was trying to give him one. Silently he packed everything into his suitcase, letting the man stew over what he was going to do.

“What about my stuff? The rest of my clothes?”

Biting back a grin the Outcrier turned away, busying himself tying his shoes. “We can go get it, I’ll drive you.”

“Oh.” Lectricy deflated, having thought he’d found an out, a reason for staying and not making a decision. “I … I’ve never been on a plane.”

Victory. The Outcrier approached again, carefully wrapping an arm around Lectricy’s shoulders, trying to keep from startling him again. “You’ll have five hours to enjoy it, it’s a long boring flight. I bought out a whole row in first class, don’t want anyone talking to me or falling asleep on my shoulder. You can stretch out and eat as many shrimp cocktails as you want.”

“I thought you’d have a private jet.” Lectricy half smiled, trying to joke but not knowing how the Outcrier would take things like that.

Smirking, the Outcrier nuzzled against his fuzzy head, “Judging me now are you?”

Lectricy pulled away to rub at his scalp, squirming out of the Outcrier’s grip and putting his bag over his shoulder, “I don’t know anything about you.”

Glad he was getting his way again, the Outcrier let him go, grabbing his keys and pressing the button for the elevator, “I’ll get you some articles to read. You’ll be an expert in no time.”

—

The apartment building looked abandoned, windows boarded up and broken glass on the front steps. Lectricy carefully picked his way around it, and the woman passed out on the sidewalk with a bottle still clutched in her hand. The expensive sports car the Outcrier drove was so conspicuous it might as well have been florescent pink and Lectricy had mentioned concerns about it being stolen, or at least broken into. The Outcrier didn’t care, it was a rental, it would just be inconvenient to be stuck in this area of town where everyone looked to be a gang member, prostitute, drug addict or some combination of the three.

There wasn’t even a key to the apartment door, nor a handle, and Lectricy pushed it open while the Outcrier waited awkwardly just inside. Every available bit of floor space had a cot or a sleeping bag or a mattress on the floor, most stained and dirty and nearly all of them occupied by people who made Lectricy look like the picture of health.

Frowning and crossing his arms, the Outcrier waited, trying to bite back the anxiousness that he shouldn’t have done this, he shouldn’t be here. Fortunately no one so much as looked at him as Lectricy shuffled through the garbage on the floor to an empty cot, twirling a combination lock on a tool chest to reveal his meager belongings and a small wad of cash. They were shoved into a plastic grocery bag before he flipped the cot onto its side, indicating to the other residents that he wasn’t coming back.

A small potted plant was in one of the boarded up windows, a few green shoots sticking out of the dirt as it stubbornly clung to survival, and Lectricy grabbed it before giving one last look around and returning to the man who’d paid for him.

“Let’s go before anyone else comes back.” Lectricy’s voice was laced with trepidation, eyes darting back and forth without meeting the Outcrier’s.

“Like who?”

Following him down the hall to the exit, Lectricy was about to respond when he was grabbed by the neck and wrenched backwards with such force he fell onto his back, crying out in pain.

“The fuck you doing?”

The Outcrier whirled around at the sudden voice and Lectricy hitting the floor with a thud. He’d only ever seen the man’s pimp while sitting in the car, so he hadn’t realized just how massive the guy was; filling the entire hallway with his girth and towering over the Outcrier in a way that actually gave him pause. Usually he was taller than everyone around, Lectricy a rare exception to that - but the junkie was so skinny it made him seem significantly smaller.

Momentarily too stunned to do anything, the Outcrier didn’t react until Lectricy, now covered in dirt from the plant he’d been holding, tried to get up only to have a savage kick delivered to his side and he immediately collapsed again, making a high pitched wheezing noise. Without considering the repercussions, the Outcrier hauled the man back by his shoulder and slammed his fist into his face.

Lectricy squeaked in surprise and barely squirmed out of the way in time to avoid being stepped on as he backpeddled to recover. The man didn’t know what was happening, between his junkie prostitute being gone for several days and not making him any money, and now this random guy in his apartment, but he didn’t care, and he reached into his jacket for his gun to end this quickly.

Realizing what he was doing, Lectricy lashed out, rolling onto his back and kicking upwards directly into the hustler’s crotch. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his bag of clothes and the remains of the plant, and charging into the Outcrier, shoving him down the hall and out of the apartment complex as quickly as possible before the man recovered.

—

The Outcrier sat pensively, wrapping an arm around Lectricy as the man peered out the airplane window. The rest of the passengers were boarding, giving him time to relax before takeoff and reflect on what had happened. He hadn’t hit anyone in a really long time, sure he’d run away after Lectricy downed the man with a well-placed kick, but he didn’t have to dwell on that. The point is he’d punched him and it had felt disturbingly good. Even better when they’d gotten back to the hotel and Lectricy had dragged him into an eager kiss, genuine and enthusiastic.

He was a lot more subdued now, having shot up before departing for the flight, concerned that he would go through withdrawal while somewhere over the middle of the country. “I think I see your luggage.”

“I’m sure they’ll take good care of your three shirts.” The Outcrier muttered. Everything that Lectricy owned had fit in one small corner of his suitcase, minus the plant that was wrapped up in bags and currently at Lectricy’s feet. 

The man had been in awe of it all, everything they encountered was a new experience for him, and even the Outcrier, jaded as he was, was amused by watching him. Lectricy had a very sweet smile when we was genuinely happy, something that he found himself wanting to see even more of. Unfortunately Lectricy was getting into that sleepy stage of being high, and the Outcrier was likely to spend much of the flight with him leaned up against his shoulder.

“How long is the flight?”

“Little over five hours. You can take a nap if you want, I’ll guard your plant against thieving stewardesses.”

His only response was a contented hum, Lectricy pulling a blanket over himself and nestling back into the cushioned chair. He woke up with a start once the plane started to take off, a weird unsettling sensation he’d never experienced before. Despite the misgivings in his stomach, he plastered himself to the window, watching as the clouds got closer and closer and then were below them. Fascinated he stared down at the coastline as it gave way to farmland with interspersed cities.

He stayed like that for most of the flight, taking it all in and occasionally nudging the Outcrier to look at something. At least someone was having a good time, whereas the Outcrier was consumed with worrying about what the hell he was doing. He had basically just kidnapped someone, worse that it was a junkie prostitute with a very obvious black eye. That wouldn’t look real great if anyone got photos of them. They’d be landing fairly late at night, maybe all the paparazzi would have gone home by then. It wasn’t like he was so famous he needed round the clock coverage, even if that would have padded his ego immeasurably.

He closed his eyes and settled back in the chair; he’d deal with those issues when they happened. Never much of a planner, he preferred to be reactionary and explosive. It had suited him well so far.

—

The flight had gone fine, aside from Lectricy puking his guts out when they landed, and there hadn’t been anyone with a camera when they’d disembarked. The Outcrier’s actual car, an even more expensive McLaren, was still in the private garage where he’d left it and only had a few extra miles on it. Price of being rich and flaunting it, someone was bound to take that thing for a joyride when he was gone.

Lectricy had once again been glued to the window, watching the twinkling lights of San Francisco as they drove into town. “Are we gonna go over the bridge?”

“No we’re coming from the wrong direction.” He gestured to the skyline lit up in the darkness. “See those two glass towers that look like jellybeans? I live in the shorter one.”

“Oh wow,” voice breathless, Lectricy leaned forward to try and see the top of the towers. “What floor?”

“Twenty-seven.”

Lectricy remained wide eyed, staring at everything in wonder, even the underground parking garage. The Outcrier’s car fit in here, a plethora of expensive sports cars and SUV’s packing the spaces. The elevator didn’t deposit them directly into the Outcrier’s room but into a hallway of doors and the Outcrier led him to a completely unadorned room, a small plain white box sitting outside.

“That was fast. This is yours.” He handed the box to a very confused Lectricy, and unlocked the door, tossing his keys into a nearby dish.

Lectricy followed him in, jaw dropping as he surveyed the Outcrier’s house. The apartment itself wasn’t exceptionally impressive other than being new looking and very modern, but the far wall was entirely floor to ceiling windows, a view out towards the heart of the city, nothing but sparkly lights and other glass buildings. There was a big comfy couch overlooking the city, and another one behind it facing a huge television mounted on the wall.

While the Outcrier disappeared down the hallway with his suitcase, Lectricy stood dumbstruck in front of the window, setting his plant down on the small table in the kitchen where it would get plenty of light. The package from outside was all but forgotten in his hand as he watched cars drive on the street below, people in neighboring skyscrapers puttering around their apartments and getting ready for bed.

“You can go outside for a better view if you want, but it’s gonna be cold and windy out there right now.” The Outcrier was endlessly amused by someone reacting that way to a view he almost took for granted. Almost, but not quite, he’d lived here for a few years and had the opportunity to move to other units in the building and even other newer, more expensive buildings. But something about the view of twinkling lights from this exact spot kept him from leaving.

Remembering the package he was holding, Lectricy went to the counter and peeled the tape off, opening it curiously. There was another box inside, light weight and flipping it open he found ten small pre-filled needles, fine print on each of them proclaiming they were methadone.

“I can’t get heroin delivered to my door, but I can get that. Hopefully it’s enough.” He looked away, realizing he probably should have just asked Lectricy what he wanted, but that hadn’t even occurred to him at the time. So unused to taking anyone else’s needs into his planning that he’d almost completely forgotten that Lectricy was a person capable of making his own decisions.

Wrinkling his nose, Lectricy flipped through the helpful pamphlet included in the package, “Do I have to go to Narcotics Anonymous meetings?”

“Probably if you want more, yeah.” The Outcrier shrugged, he didn’t care what he did, but he didn’t want to have him overdose in his apartment, that would look a hundred times worse than in his hotel. Hotel rooms were for one night stands, actually in his house was something a bit more serious. He headed for the bathroom, pulling his shirt off as he walked and tossing it to the side. “I need another shower, I hate airplanes. My bedroom is in there, make yourself comfortable.”

Instead of heading for the bedroom Lectricy pulled one of the syringes free, snickering at the included tourniquet that was branded with the company name. He sat himself down on the plush couch overlooking the city and hunched over his arm, capping the needle back up afterwards. He’d done the methadone thing once before, it hadn’t been strong enough to stop the craving, though it had taken the edge off the withdrawal. There was enough in that box for a few days before he had to make a decision about actually going to their clinic and spilling his guts in meetings which he hated. Being a prostitute was his job, but he was shy and reticent in his personal life.

Finally tearing himself away from that view he went exploring, the small kitchen was barely stocked with any food and Lectricy helped himself to a glass of water as he wandered around. The patio was indeed freezing and windy, but he could see a small chunk of ground that didn’t have any lights and looked like it might be water, he’d have to see again in the morning when there was light. There was a bedroom that had been turned into an office of sorts, but mainly it housed the Outcrier’s various awards and honors. Small gold statues in lighted glass cases were on one side, with plaques and framed newspaper clippings on the wall behind them. There were shelves with books, and some very impressive looking trophies being used at bookends. It was far less an office, and more a shrine to someone who had a very high opinion of himself.

Other than that one room the place barely looked lived in, like the Outcrier had hired a professional designer to make it look nice, and then never did anything to put his own mark on it. Even the bedroom looked strangely impersonal, starkly modern, with some decorative objects that Lectricy would bet a year’s pay the Outcrier hadn’t picked out. It was very strange, like being in the hotel again, but it was all the Outcrier’s stuff.

Lectricy found his meager belongings in the walk in closet, his three shirts and scarf hung up in the corner and his bag sitting in one of the shelves. He reached in for one of the magazines he’d bought in the airport, kicking back on the bed to flip through it. The methadone hadn’t really satisfied his need to have every sense dulled, but it was good enough for now, he wasn’t going to start twitching and puking and that would have to do.

Steam billowed out from the shower as the Outcrier emerged, fully naked, and proceeded into the closet. He smugly smiled to himself, Lectricy was waiting on the bed as expected. Obedient thing.

“You had an orgy in Las Vegas?”

“It wasn’t an orgy.” The Outcrier’s voice was slightly muffled as he riffled through his clothes for some lounge pants.

“This says you bought a fifty gallon drum of lube.”

“It was a joke and I dumped most of it on Crow Dazzle’s head.” He plopped onto the bed next to him, looking at what he was reading instead of putting on the clothes in his hands. “Good picture, I look ripped there.”

Smiling Lectricy flipped a few pages back, “What’s this outfit then?”

The Outcrier actually reached out and tore that page from the magazine, balling it up and chucking it out of the room, “That’s called losing a bet.”

Lectricy burst into laughter, the first time the Outcrier had heard that sound from him. “I think it’s kinda cute.”

“Yeah you would.”

Putting the magazine to the side, Lectricy rolled onto his back to look up at him, meekly asking, “Now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?”

“Right now? Nothing.” He reached out to stroke that black eye. “Need to give you some time to recover before I make it so you can’t walk again.”

Lectricy’s expression was unreadable and the Outcrier couldn’t tell if the junkie thought he was serious or not. He wasn’t even sure himself. In fact he didn’t want to think about it, continuing on to ask, “How are you doing anyway? Still a bruised mess under this shirt?”

Taking it as a command Lectricy shucked off his shirt, turning over to expose his back to the Outcrier. “Feels about the same. How’s it look?”

“Like you got your ass kicked.” He reached out to trace some of the bruises. “These scars; the vertical stripes, what are they from?”

An uncomfortable pause where Lectricy licked his lips before responding, “A radiator. I was tied to it for the night because I tried to leave.”

“Fucking a…” The Outcrier rubbed at those scars before turning Lectricy over and dragging him up against the pillows.

Lectricy curled against the Outcrier’s chest, fitting perfectly beneath his chin, his slender fingers played over the man’s skin, “What about yours?”

The Outcrier’s hand reached up to guide those fingers across his torso, “I was stabbed by some little shitstain who tried to rob me.” His hand moved to a larger scar down his side, “This one is less impressive, I was in a car accident.”

“Looks like it hurt.”

“It’s not 'pressed against a radiator all night’ painful, but it didn’t feel good.” He pulled the sheets up around them, reaching off the side of the bed and throwing Lectricy’s shoes at the lightswitch until the room darkened, not wanting to get up now that he was in bed.

Lectricy squirmed around to get comfortable, relaxing into the deep fluff of the Outcrier’s mattress. This was real nice. He could get used to this.

The Outcrier didn’t speak, just let himself be cuddled up to as he stared at the ceiling. This had been a mistake, he was sure of it.

—

Lectricy whined as the Outcrier got up, opening the blinds and letting the morning light pour over the bed. “Turn the sun off and come back to bed,” said pathetically as he reached out without opening his eyes to try and grab onto the Outcrier.

“You’re not a morning person are you?”

“I work all night, morning is for sleeping.” Lectricy yawned and rolled over, pulling all the blankets into a pile and laying on top of them.

“You slept all night.”

“Yeah well, normally I don’t. You’re comfortable.”

“Glad I could help.” He sounded distracted, didn’t like the familiar tone they were already taking with each other. Lectricy was here to be his personal sex toy for a while and then he was going away. That’s all there was to it. He’d pay him a bundle to get what he wanted and then be done with it.

Lectricy slowly oozed out of the bed, padding over to the window and taking in the view of all the buildings outside. He’d stripped out of his clothes during the night and the Outcrier groaned in defeat, coming up behind Lectricy and wrapping his arms around his middle. Even all scarred and bruised up, he was incredibly alluring. Lectricy didn’t make it easy, grinding back against him and sighing happily.

“Come on you, I want breakfast.” He slid his hands down to Lectricy’s crotch stroking him erect. “And then I’m gonna personally inspect those bruises.”

Lectricy snorted, “Kiss them all better?”

“Something like that.”

Shifting around to face him Lectricy dared a kiss, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck before pulling away to whisper into his ear, “Guess I owe you a few huh?”

“Yeah. Eventually.” His arms went to Lectricy’s waist, possessively digging his fingers in and pulling him even closer. The Outcrier’s eyes nearly rolled back as Lectricy bit his ear, dragging his lips down his neck.

“I’ll make it worth the wait.”

Those fingers were probably leaving bruises of their own at this point. “Damn right you will,” the Outcrier growled as he roughly dragged Lectricy’s thighs around him, pressing his back into the wall and assaulting his mouth with his tongue. Lectricy seemed eager, and it took everything in the Outcrier to remember that he was injured and this was just an act in an effort to do his job.

Very slowly and reluctantly he uncurled his fingers, setting Lectricy down and regrettably moving away, panting heavily and watching him with undisguised lust. Lectricy looked surprised, and a little worried, had he done something wrong?

The Outcrier had a libido like a teenager, and he had a naked, scrawny submissive little fuck just waiting for him. But he didn’t want to hurt him more than he already had, he didn’t get off on pain, just on power. Lectricy cautiously approached him, wrapping his arms around his middle and leaning against him, making a contented noise when the Outcrier started to rub his neck.

What was he going to do with this guy?

Lectricy made that decision for him, dropping down to his knees with practiced ease and leaning forward to lavish him with attention. Groaning and closing his eyes he rested his hand on the back of Lectricy’s head, holding him in place. A few more moments of warmth and listening to slurping noises and the Outcrier pulled him off, gesturing to the bed. His grin was downright lecherous as he watched Lectricy obediently climb onto the bed and wait for him.

Mindful of the bruises, the Outcrier crawled over him, wanting nothing more than to fuck his brains out, but he could contain himself. He lowered his face to the junkie’s crotch, chuckling with his mouth full as Lectricy mewled and arched up against him. Pulling off him, he looked down at his toy, Lectricy already panting and squirming helplessly. He was either the best actor ever, or so touch starved he was going to blow his load in a few seconds.

Challenge accepted. Time for the Outcrier to see just how long he could draw it out. Lectricy reached up and wrapped his arms around the man’s shoulders, anchoring himself as he gasped for air. The soft whines he made were really testing the Outcrier’s resolve to not actually fuck him.

But there were plenty of other things they could do. And hearing Lectricy stutter out his name breathlessly made everything worthwhile. The Outcrier let out a contented sigh, reaching down to pet the writhing mess beneath him. “Good boy.”

He didn’t know what he was going to do with Lectricy in the long term, but short term, this was amazing. If only he could keep him forever.

And then Lectricy reached up, shoving the Outcrier over onto his back, “My turn.”

Yeah, keeping him forever would be real nice. That was a good plan.


End file.
